


The Bride of Darkrai

by Ysavvryl



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: F/M, Human Sacrifice, Prayer, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 21:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5065705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysavvryl/pseuds/Ysavvryl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A myth of Sinnoh.  Young priestess Cecily learns that she is to be sacrificed in a mock wedding to the nightmare god Pokémon Darkrai, for the sake of a vain king who wants to control him.  Is there anything that could save her from this fate?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bride of Darkrai

* * *

**The Bride of Darkrai**

The young King of Veilstone walked down a long hall, leading to a separate wing east of the main castle. Stretching out past the jagged cliffs and over the rough seas, it had many window slots with sunlight streaming through. But no matter how much light this hallway received, it always seemed gloomy, full of shadows.

Following him were two large guards and a Bronzor. Between them was a prisoner. Starved and dirty, he didn’t seem like he required two guards and a Pokemon for an escort. He would have dragged his feet, but the humans held onto his arms and forced him along at the pace the King set. Using his rags as cover, he tried to twist out of the rope binding his hands together. It made his skin sore without any sign of loosening.

“You will now suffer for your crimes of theft and trespassing,” the King said without any hint of regret or sympathy. “We do not tolerate any law breaking.”

“But it wasn’t much of anything,” the scrawny thief pleaded in a rapid voice. “It was just some bread, I didn’t have nothin’ else to eat and…”

“Silence,” the King snapped, then looked to two more guards at the end of the hall. A Lucario stood with them and a Steelix slithered just beyond the gate. “Let us through.”

“Yes sire,” the two gate guards said, then one pulled the pins holding the gate in place. The Steelix moved it up with his tail, then dropped it when the group went through.

The thief spoke fearful gibberish as the gate crashed behind him. He squirmed to get away, but the Bronzor behind him helped to push him along. On the other hand, the King and the guards showed no fear of what was in the room. The protective runes, safety measures, and powerful guard Pokemon made certain that none of them would be hurt. The thief had no such protection.

Dragging a length of heavy steel chain behind him, the inhabitant of the room moved by the pillar that held him in place. He wore a jeweled collar, the worth of which was only exceeded by the king’s fine robes and gear. A phantom of black, he had large leather wings like a Golbat and long white hair like a woman. Hanging on his back, there was a black wraith sword that emitted a sense of being hungry. The phantom’s red eyes passed over them in mild disinterest before he turned and continued pacing.

The King turned to the guards and held his hand out. They passed over the trembling thief. Finding the ruler’s grip surprisingly strong, the prisoner was unable to escape before being pushed into the range of the captive Pokemon god. “Darkrai, master of nightmares, I bring a sacrifice for you.” He clenched a stone he wore around his neck; it was so red that it was almost black and shaped like a defending Salamence. “Take his soul to fill your own.”

“No, no, please, I did…” the thief cried out, but then the phantom looked directly at him. His blood froze and his hairs stood on end. Darkrai took hold of the man’s throat and delved into his soul. In total fear, he gargled and tried to scream.

As the thief’s body went still, the King ordered, “Kill him.”

Darkrai took his attention off the victim and looked at his master.

“Kill him,” he ordered more forcefully.

In an attempt that seemed half-hearted, he threw the thief down, grabbed his sword, sliced the thief in two, and then replaced the sword on his back. The phantom then turned away and moved from the entrance. “They do not fear death the most,” he stated in a chilling voice. “They fear losing what they have, including life.”

“Fear of losing life is the fear of death,” the King said.

Darkrai looked back towards the hall that connected to the castle. “Perhaps even life not yet given is feared lost.”

Not feeling like riddling the phantom today, the King turned and left the prison. An adviser met him in the hall leading back to the main castle. “Sire, you will soon have enough sacrifices to make a blood oath with Darkrai.”

“We are aware of that,” he replied testily. “Have we found a suitable maiden for the ceremony?”

“We have several options, one of which belongs to the Order of Mesprit.”

He nodded his approval. “Explain.”

* * *

Within the Temple that served Mesprit, Uxie, and Azelf, there was a small room with two doors. A wooden lattice in the middle obscured the two speaking to each other. On one side, there was a poor woman holding onto a small baby. On the other side, there was a young priestess wearing a modest brown dress.

“I come to ask mercy for the sake of my oldest son,” the poor woman said. “He was accused of being a thief and executed last week.”

“What happened to cause the accusations?” the priestess asked.

“We were getting to a desperate state. I told him to be careful and abide by the laws of the heavens and the king, so I know he wouldn’t have done anything wrong. I had gotten ill while this one was not yet born and we didn’t have much food. My son went to work to get us some more food, and we were able to live for a while.” She looked down and clutched her new baby close. When she spoke again, her voice was trembling. “An-and then he was caught by the guards, who said that he had been stealing the whole time. That can’t be true! I know my son and he wouldn’t become a thief. They sent him to that monster so it can devour his mind.” She made a gasping sob.

The priestess was chilled by this. It was known that the worst criminals were sent to the hidden god Pokemon to be destroyed. But for someone mistakenly accused of theft to be sent to him, that was frightening. What would stop the King from sending anybody he didn’t like to Darkrai?

“I knew he wouldn’t have done it,” the mother sobbed. “He was a good boy, wouldn’t have hurt or cheated anybody. He doesn’t deserve it.”

Wanting to comfort her, the priestess put her hands through a slot in the lattice. “Let’s pray for your son, so that the immortal Pokemon have mercy on his soul.”

She adjusted how she held her baby, then the mother gave her one hand to hold. For a moment, she noticed how small the priestess’ hands were. She must have been a new member of the temple, barely months from childhood. Perhaps not even as old as her oldest son had been. But there was something to this young woman, reassuring her that her spiritual strength was pure and mature. “So that he doesn’t remain within the nightmares of that monster.”

The baby squirmed for a moment, making a muffled cry despite being asleep. Not even the most innocent of children were immune from Darkrai’s aura. Both women often wondered what drove the king to keep such a demon in the castle. Or how he could stand to live there, even closer to the source of all nightmares.

In the midst of their praying, the temple bells began to ring. A meeting was being called. Although she should have gone, the priestess stayed with the mother until she said, “I best be getting back to my work, and you to yours.”

The priestess patted her hand. “May the spirits protect your children, the one you lost and the one in your arms.” She then got up and left.

As she came up to the meeting hall, an older priestess met with her. “Cecily, you’re late,” she whispered.

“I know, sorry,” she said, softening her steps as to not interrupt anyone. “I was in the prayer room.”

They slipped in the back of the meeting hall and into an empty bench. No one seemed to notice. At the front, there was a messenger from the king. He was making the usual statements: encourage people to join the city guard as war with Eterna, Jubilife, or Sunnyshore was imminent, pray for the sake of the knights, inform everyone of the current trade restrictions, and so on. Cecily felt disappointed that she had left a grieving mother to sit through this dull announcement list.

At the end of it, the messenger checked the scroll he had. So there was something unique this time. “Lastly, we have made great progress towards pleasing the night god Darkrai. The final step to earning his loyalty and eternal blessings is approaching, and thus the court has started preparations. For our last offering, we will unite his soul with that of one of our good citizens, and she will ascend to be an eternal partner with Darkrai.”

“Does that mean they’ll kill her?” Cecily asked in a hushed whisper. The thought gave her chills.

“Most likely,” the older priestess whispered back.

“According to our seers,” the messenger went on, “the bride must be pure, kindhearted, and greatly creative. Upon considering this advice, the King has chosen Cecily of this temple to be the bride of Darkrai.”

The others gasped or tried to object to the choice. Cecily froze to the spot. It couldn’t really be her. She had sworn three years of service to Mesprit, so they couldn’t choose her. Right?

* * *

A young man gathered berries outside the castle walls. He heard a noise and looked back to the castle. Were they shutting the gates? Once they did, he would be shut out for the night, maybe even longer. A friend of his had been stuck outside once for nine days.

Thankfully, it was only a Pokemon. A Rapidash approached him, neighing softly. His coat was white and his mane was orange, but this one had a left ear that was a little more pointed than the right. Smiling, the young man scratched the Rapidash’s head. “Good morning, friend.”

“Wuffle,” he replied sweetly, nuzzling the human’s wrist.

He turned more serious as he came closer. “I won’t be able to see you for a long time. Perhaps never again. I’m leaving Veilstone.”

Pricking his ears up, the Rapidash gave a snort of disbelief. He stomped his hoof and lifted his head. It was one of the more amazing things about Pokemon. They understood humans, even though humans didn’t always understand them. And they could feel strongly for humans.

“I have to, but not for my sake. They’re going to sacrifice Cecily to Darkrai. They claim she’s just going to marry him, but everyone knows the truth. I was all right with her joining the temple; we made a promise to get married after her initial term. But I can’t let this happen. I’m going to take her from the temple and get her to safety.”

The Rapidash lowered his head and gave a sympathetic whine.

He went back to picking berries. “I’m getting supplies together. We can go to Celestic, and maybe Eterna beyond that.” The Rapidash nosed his hip. “I’m sorry, but I have to think of her.”

He neighed, then poked the dagger on the young man’s hip. When the human turned to him, the Pokemon lifted his right foreleg and offered it to him.

He looked at his friend in slight disbelief. “You want to form a blood oath with me?”

Neighing again, he nodded.

“Really? Thank you, I appreciate the help.” He brought out his dagger. “You’re certain of this?”

The Rapidash nodded. It was a life-changing offer for both of them. For all history, Pokemon and humans had cooperated to live the best lives possible. But the blood oath went one step beyond that. It bound the destinies of a human and a Pokemon together. The human agreed to take care of the Pokemon, to keep it near and always consult it when planning something. The Pokemon agreed to protect the human at all costs, to stay near and help in everything.

“Okay. We only have the spirits of nature to approve, but…” he cut himself lightly on the arm with his dagger, so that he bled a little. Next, he carefully made a similar cut in the Rapidash’s shoulder. He put the two cuts together. “Gods of nature and friendship, I, Marcus Smith, offer my life and friendship to this Rapidash.”

The Rapidash put his head over Marcus’ shoulder, bringing the warmth of his flames closer. Within that fire, he heard a voice he had never heard before. ‘Gods of nature and friendship, I offer my loyalty and friendship to this human.’

He turned his head. “It worked already?”

‘Once you give me a name in your language, it will be finished,’ the Rapidash told him.

“I always felt like you should be named North.”

‘Then that is my name of friendship.’ North the Rapidash stepped back and stamped his foot, ready for action. ‘How will we rescue Cecily?’

“Let me heal you first.” Marcus smashed a few of the berries together, to heal his cut and North’s. “We have to get her away without notice, but you’ve been seen inside the castle walls. My father and her father know and approve, so here’s what I thought.”

* * *

The castle scribe arranged several blank pages, his ink pot, and his pen, but paused before starting. “Sire, pardon me for asking, but can’t you write as well?”

The blond haired man waved the question away. “Of course I can. I can write better than you with one hand tied behind my back. But the story will be more appreciated if there are two sides of it told. You will tell one side and I will tell the more personal side.”

That was a bad reason for having two sides to a story, but, “I understand, sire.”

“But,” the King stated, thumping his fist against the table for effect, “I want to make sure that you have the right story. So I am going to tell it to you. That way, the best possible story gets told.”

That meant that only the king’s version of the story would be told, the scribe thought. But at the threat of being consumed by Darkrai, he wouldn’t disobey. “Good thinking, sire.”

“Good?” he asked, questioning that the idea was only ‘good’.

Flustered, the scribe restated, “Very good, sire.”

He nodded. “Excellent. Now, it all began with my father. A great man, but not as great as me. He had a dream of uniting the land of Sinnoh under one rule. And it has to be the best kingdom in the world in order to fulfill such a dream. That kingdom is Veilstone. He sought to gain the blessings of the Sinnoh gods and I helped him. Under our divine authority, we found one at a lake south of here.”

Despite being fearful of his King, this inspired a spark of awe. “You met Azelf, sire?”

He shook his head. “No. We met a god more ancient and more powerful than him. We told it of our plans to unite Sinnoh into one peaceful and grand kingdom. Impressed by our thinking, the god gave us a sword and a stone as symbols of its power.” The King absentmindedly took hold of the dark red dragon stone that he always wore around his neck. “We also received a vision of another powerful god that would punish the wicked and instill fear in the unbelievers. This god was the master of nightmares, Darkrai.”

Darkrai was a nightmare, the scribe thought. But the King seemed worshipful. He had to appear that way too, no matter how he felt. “Praise be to Darkrai,” he said quietly.

“Yes. But my father had a hidden weakness. Make something up, but nothing too terrible.”

“A weakness to wine?” the scribe asked. “Or women?”

“Women is good. Many men have a weakness to women,” he laughed. “From this weakness, he was unable to handle the vast power that Darkrai holds. I bravely tried to help him, but was unsuccessful. The nightmare god killed my father coming into the waking world.”

More like the ambitious young prince had killed his father in order to become king. That death probably brought Darkrai into the world in the process, if he gave this explanation for his father’s death. This man had sacrificed his own father to the gods, the scribe thought in horror. Not wanting to become yet another sacrifice, he kept quiet and made notes in charcoal. He could clean the scroll up later when it came time to put the story into ink.

“But in his uncertainty outside of dreams, I managed to defeat Darkrai with my own hands. I had a strong chain made to keep him bound, but that was not enough. From the secluded prison in which I placed him, he lured innocent victims to him out of lust for blood and power.”

Innocent? “Sire? You send criminals to him.”

“I know,” the King said sharply. “But when I control Darkrai and all of Sinnoh falls under my law, I want the best possible story available for future generations to marvel at. I will make this all true.”

“I see. You are extremely clever, sire.”

“Make sure to emphasize that factor, plus my handsome charm and flawless wisdom.” He turned and began pacing, smiling at some internal vision of himself. “I tried to conquer him over and over again, but he was just as clever, eluding me. He nearly ended my life with the wraith blade that he used to end so many others, that he had stolen from us. But I always escaped. Then, after he had taken ninety-nine innocent souls, he made a gruesome demand. He wanted the fairest and purest maiden in the land of Sinnoh to marry him in a macabre ceremony of slavery and corruption.”

The scribe felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. “Th-that, sire?”

“We will record her as the most beautiful and magnificent maiden in the land,” the King stated, rubbing his chin. “She really isn’t all that pretty; her nose is too squat and her hair is dull. And her eyes are just the wrong shade of green; have you noticed? Pure young women like her are supposed to have sparkling eyes that entice and hypnotize, but she just has muddled grass green eyes. I suppose you could call her cute in a homely fashion, but I wouldn’t choose her as a bride.” He shook his head. “No, make certain to reform her into the perfect beauty: hair like spun gold, eyes like green emeralds, dainty and graceful all around… yes, that would be more suitable for my story.”

The scribe tried to nod politely and fix on the image, but the idea of ‘macabre ceremony of slavery and corruption’ was too terrible to dismiss. Especially for a meek priestess of Mesprit. He had seen her in the temple before, praying and helping people. She had seemed so sweet, one an honest man could settle down to a peaceful home life with.

“Of course, I couldn’t let such a perfect women be ruined by a nightmare I was looking to conquer. Write up a good many adventures of me trying to stop the final sacrifice. In the end, I break into Darkrai’s dungeon on the night of his twisted marriage ceremony. I am seconds too late to save the beautiful maiden.”

“Too late?”

“Yes, too late,” he affirmed with a clenched fist. “The woman must die. It will give a terrible and tragic tone to my story of heroism, making the entire story that much more epic. And of course, she must fall in love with me at first sight, to demonstrate just how handsome and charming I am. But before he can gain unstoppable power, I ruin Darkrai’s plans and take control over him. With him firmly in my grasp, I will set off on a legendary quest to fulfill my father’s dream of uniting the land of Sinnoh under the banner of Veilstone.” He turned to the scribe. “We can work on later additions as my quest carries on.”

“Of course, sire,” the scribe said, although he felt a poisonous jab of falsehood and guilt in his soul.

* * *

Cecily was in prayer. Ever since she had learned of her impending marriage, she prayed to find some pity from the gods and a way out. However, prayer didn’t seem to work for any other victims of Darkrai.

Every now and then, she considered a particular Pokemon to pray to. But she didn’t think it would work. The Pokemon did not really exist, so it might be sacrilegious to do so. She was one that had been in Cecily’s imagination for a long time, seemingly her whole life. She had to set aside her childhood dreams when she joined the Order of Mesprit, but those dreams still came to her. Perhaps because of Darkrai’s presence.

A knock came to her door. “Cecily? May I come in?”

It was one of her friends. “Yes Helen. What is it?”

“Marcus has come to see you.”

A sad smile came to her face. Her family lived next to the smithy. The smith’s son Marcus had been great friends with her, even though he was a few years older. Great friends; they had sworn to get married once she was done at the temple. Although, that wasn’t going to happen now. “Oh, right. Tell him I’ll be there in a bit.”

Helen nodded, but then came closer. “You might want to take your sacred text. And a change of clothes.”

“What? Why?”

“He’s going take you to Eterna.”

A flame of hope burst in her soul. “Really? That’s wonderful… give me a few minutes.” She found a bag and took a few things.

As she left her room, it seemed to be an open secret. The king’s guards did nothing, but the other priestesses patted her arm and smiled at her, or winked. Mesprit might understand her decision to break her oath and leave the temple, Cecily reflected. And Marcus was a good smith in his own right. If he could find work in Eterna, they would be able to live safely away from Darkrai.

At least, until the King decided to go conquer Eterna, she worried. The King and the soldiers had made it clear that they intended on conquering the other kingdoms of Sinnoh. They were only waiting until they were able to control their greatest weapon, a god Pokemon. Maybe they should aim for further than Eterna.

She still smiled when she saw her childhood friend. On hugging him, she saw the Rapidash that they often saw when on walks outside the castle walls. “Good afternoon, Marcus,” she said with a cheery face. “And you brought a friend.”

He smiled warmly as he clasped her hand. “North and I will get you out of here.”

With a whinny, the Rapidash affirmed this. “You swore the oath with him?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, but let’s go quickly, before they realize what’s going on.”

Cecily nodded, then let Marcus pick her up and place her on North’s back. Then he got up and signaled the Pokemon to run. At first jolt, she nearly slipped, but Marcus kept his arm around her waist. She put her hand on North’s neck without thinking. However, when his mane flipped against her bare skin, it was less of a fire and more of a hot puff of air.

The commotion started immediately, as one of the guards inside the temple called for them to stop. Cecily leaned back into Marcus’ grip. With his warm breath running across her neck, she saw them getting away from Veilstone, running along the grassy plains and up to the foggy mountains of Celestic Town. She would be safe and happy with him. And North, of course. It was a wonderful vision.

A vision cut short as one of the castle archers put an arrow through the Rapidash’s right rear leg. The Pokemon screamed as he fumbled midrun, crashing into a post and knocking his two riders off. Gasping as she hit the dirt streets, Cecily soon found Marcus standing over her, still protecting her. He drew his dagger and stabbed the approaching guard with it. Unfortunately, the guard was wielding a sword and armor, where Marcus had no protection.

Another guard came with a Haunter, who quickly put the panicked Rapidash under hypnosis. Cecily got up, but was grabbed by a third guard while Marcus tried to fight off the one nearest him. “Hold it! You’re not kidnapping the bride.”

“You...” Marcus growled.

The Haunter’s partner interrupted with, “Take control of him.” The ghost quickly complied by possessing Marcus’ body and forcing him to stop fighting.

Frantic and unable to think of anything else, Cecily cried out, “Wait, don’t hurt him. Please.”

“He’s a sinner now for attacking the soldiers,” the guard holding her said. “Don’t worry. We will keep you safe. Let’s take them to the King.”

With Marcus possessed and North limping blindly while asleep, there was nothing she could do. She tried to be strong, but cried softly as they entered the main hall of the castle. After they tied Marcus’ arms together, the Haunter released him and was sent to fetch the King.

Marcus looked around once his mind cleared. Cecily turned to him, still holding onto hope. But it wasn’t long before he hung his head in defeat. “I’m sorry, Cecily,” he whispered. “I couldn’t save you.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she put her head on his shoulder and wept.

After kissing her on the forehead, Marcus reached into his bag and pulled out an object. “Here. I was going to give you this later, but take it now.”

She almost said that no object could replace him, but then she saw it. Made of polished copper, it was in a form like a Pokemon. She had a large curved body, like an almost half-moon or a resting bird, with thinner crescents for lower wings, upper wings, tail, crest, and ear frills. She was about seven inches long and five inches high. “Oh, you made Cresselia.”

Marcus whispered so low that she almost didn’t hear him. “I always thought that your dream goddess would be the one to defeat the nightmare. I hoped that maybe if she had a physical form in the waking world, she could help protect us.”

“She’s just a dream,” Cecily whispered back. Still, she took the Cresselia figure from him. “But I treasure her.”

The King then entered the room. His broad shoulderpads, oversized crown, and fur cloak made him almost look inhuman. “This is the man who tried to kidnap Darkrai’s bride?” Before either of them could respond in his defense, a guard nodded. “Then we shall take him immediately to be executed.”

“No!” Cecily said. “Please, have mercy.”

“He will be helping our kingdom to rule over all,” the King replied. “The same as you. You should both be proud.” He turned to go down the hall. “And bring the Rapidash too. Take the bride up to the northwest tower and make sure that she is safe.”

She tried to kiss Marcus again, but the guards grabbed hold and pulled them apart too soon. Clasping Cresselia to her chest, she followed the other guards and was locked into the northwest tower.

* * *

Once again, the King stood fearlessly in front of Darkrai. The phantom Pokemon was still this time, hovering by the southern window and watching the sky. The King took the dark red stone in hand. “Master of nightmares, Darkrai, I bring these sacrifices to you. Take their souls for your own.” He sent Marcus into Darkrai’s reach while the Haunter forced the injured Rapidash forward.

Even asleep, the Rapidash was nervous. He unconsciously tried to bolt, but the ghost forced him to keep going. Next to the god, the Fire Pokemon screamed in fear and caused himself to stumble. The young man’s breath grew sharp and pained, although he was trying to appear brave. That could only mean these two had sworn a blood oath.

Darkrai didn’t do anything, though. It didn’t matter if another Pokemon was crying out in fear. He continued to watch the sky as if the rest were not there.

“Darkrai,” the King said sharply.

Before anyone could blink, Darkrai turned and killed the Rapidash in one strike of his wraith sword. Then he turned to Marcus. He grabbed him by the throat and stared at him for some time. To his credit, the young man struggled against crying out or screaming.

Just as the King was going to order Darkrai to finish him, the phantom dropped Marcus. But not to kill him. He stared at the young man for minute with a surprised look, saying nothing.

“Kill him,” the King ordered.

For a moment, Darkrai had a hateful expression. Then he put his sword through Marcus, killing him instantly. He went back to the south window to watch the sky again.

* * *

Cecily was visited by her father. “I’m sorry, but I think that I’m the reason you’re here.”

She clasped his hand through the barred door. “I don’t see why.”

The older man put his other hand over his eyes. His whole body sagged as though the guilt and sadness in his heart weighed him down. “I’ve disagreed with the King previously. He never did anything about it, so I thought it was okay. But looking at the list of who they were choosing between, I think I was a factor in his decision.”

“There were other girls?”

He nodded. “Yes. The King wants to form a blood oath with Darkrai. Because he is a god and hasn’t agreed to it, the King has to sacrifice a certain number of people to him to gain control. You would be the last.”

“And then he means to start conquering and killing with that power,” Cecily said timidly.

She didn’t want that. But what could she do?

* * *

There were three church orders within Sinnoh that presided over the religious aspects of life in unity. They were the Order of Azelf, the Order of Mesprit, and the Order of Uxie. Every kingdom that wanted to keep favor with the gods had a house for each of the three orders. Likewise, every king worked to keep favor with the temple leaders in their community.

However, the King of Veilstone scared the orders into keeping their followers in line, praying for his success and glory. They had demanded to see Darkrai for themselves, for any alternative ways of pacifying the nightmare god. The King was willing to let them visit, so that they knew the full power of the Pokemon that he would control. If they were smart, they’d back off after today.

It was evening when they came. Torches backed by mirrors lit the hall as they approached Darkrai’s chamber. The shifting shadows seemed suspiciously sharp. “We have done everything possible to keep the people safe,” the King told them.

With him, there was the high priest of Azelf, the high priestess of Mesprit, and the elder of Uxie. The former two kept respectfully quiet, but the last, a stubborn old crone that should have died off ages ago, kept toeing the line. “His aura still disturbs the dreams of those in Veilstone,” she pointed out.

“We know that those strong in mind, body, and soul will resist that aura, so if one is bothered, it is one’s own fault.” He gave the signal to raise the gate.

“Does the god Pokemon speak to humans?” the elder of Uxie asked.

“If he so wishes,” the King responded. “But he speaks very little.”

When they entered the room, the King noticed that, once again, Darkrai was sitting by the southern windows looking outside. He was again either absently or willfully ignorant of his guests. The King flexed his right hand, but didn’t reach for the dark red pendant.

“Darkrai, my nocturnal god, I bring you some guests,” he stated, more graciously than he normally spoke to the dark Pokemon. Then again, normally the witnesses were loyally mute or soon to be dead.

He did not even take notice of the formal tone. Instead, he stayed quietly where he was, the salt-tinged wind tossing around his long white hair. His distant behaviors were steadily making the King bitter about his captive god. But once he had control through a blood oath, Darkrai would be obedient.

The high priest and high priestess acted much as he expected, awed and reverent. However, the elder walked closer to Darkrai. It was reckless, even without considering her arthritic gait. “Honored elder, his sword cleaves the soul from the body,” he warned.

“So I have heard,” she stated, and continued moving closer to him. She ended up right next to him at the window. Still, he did not move. The elder looked out and said something quietly. That got Darkrai’s attention finally. He turned to her, listened for a bit, then spoke quietly back.

What had she said that got him talking? The King wondered, biting his lip. Whatever it was seemed to interest the Pokemon god. He thought of stepping closer, but then the high priestess asked, “Is it wise to keep him chained up like this? If you are trying to earn the favor of this Pokemon, it seems disrespectful to tie him down with steel, even with jewels.”

“He is a mischievous young god,” the King explained. “He does not have the socialization skills that the others do. He might make trouble and cause tragedies doing something he thinks is fun. But under my guidance, he will become a blessing for our people.”

“I appreciate how you’re trying to teach him to judge the wicked and disbelievers,” the high priest said. “But are you certain that those are the people you are giving to him for punishment? If he should punish an innocent, he may think it is appropriate to harm any person.”

“We are certain that he only executes the worst criminals.”

After a few more questions from them, the elder of Uxie came hobbling back. “I suppose he could become well-spoken if he encountered more conversation,” she stated.

“Did you learn anything from him?” the King asked, trying to sound innocently curious.

The old crone nodded. “Oh yes, I learned something very interesting about him.” She didn’t say anything more, simply walked straight for the door. Once they were halfway down the hall, she spontaneously asked, “So, you mean to form a blood pact with Darkrai?”

“Yes, of course we do,” he replied.

She stopped, nearly causing the high priestess to run into her. “If you do, then heed my words. There is a complication in your plan, one which I have no control over, nor the other gods, and especially not you. If this complication causes what I think it will, you will lose complete control over Darkrai and will never be able to form an oath with him.”

This caused the King great alarm. His scholars had combed through all the records and information, then assured him that by following the instructions he’d received at the strange lake, he could control the nightmare god. Thus far, he had fulfilled every requirement. “What is this complication?”

“Time. If you wish to form a blood oath with Darkrai, it must be done at night. Four days will pass to the night when it must be done, or else.”

“Or else what? Speak not in riddles around us.”

“Or else Darkrai will go berserk and possibly destroy us all,” the elder stated, direct but dark.

* * *

When they were outside of the king’s quarters, the high priestess of Mesprit sighed. “I wanted to find a way to help Cecily,” she said. “Not hurry along her death.”

“I wasn’t joking,” the elder of Uxie told them. “On the night four days hence, Darkrai could lose control of himself. He doesn’t even realize this. However, within this problem lies our solution. I will speak to the young lady tomorrow and see about finding the key.”

* * *

Cecily sat in her room, sewing a doll to pass the time. She could give it to one of her younger sisters. Perhaps they would have more peaceful nights when the King left with Darkrai and the army. But it would be a worried peace, about who would or wouldn’t come home. And many others would suffer under Darkrai’s aura. All because she would die, giving the King power over Darkrai.

Focusing on her stitches, she tried to ignore what was coming. And in only four nights too. It loomed over her. But she couldn’t see how to escape now that she was locked in this room. She didn’t have a blood oath with any Pokemon. She wasn’t as fast or as strong as the castle guards. Although she could dream up many things, she couldn’t charm or plot her way out. All she had right now was prayer, and sewing to pass the time.

A knock on the door made her jump. “Miss Cecily, you have a visitor.” The door was unlocked.

She recognized the old woman who came in, and curtsied to her. “Elder, I’m honored.”

“Don’t mind the elder business. I could be your own granny.” She sat in a chair and waved her back to her chair. “How are you doing?”

“I’m keeping busy,” she replied, sitting in the chair and moving the doll she was making. “I keep my tears for Mesprit, though.”

She nodded at the phrase indicating that she was keeping her outbursts as private as she could. “Are you angry to be chosen? Or looking to escape?”

“It would only help me if I ran off, and even then it would not be enough to compensate for some other girl being chosen.”

“I see. Good girl.” She looked around the room, eventually spotting the copper sculpture. “That looks out of place."

“Oh, that was a gift from a friend of mine. It’s a little story I made up as a child. She’s…”

“Cresselia, a goddess from the moon, a beautiful and graceful dream.”

Cecily blushed. “Oh? Where did you hear that? I only told a few people, knowing it was just some silly story.”

“I make it my task to know things, which is how I’ve been blessed by Uxie. However, I think there may be a bit more to this than just a child’s story.”

“You do?”

“I think she could defeat Darkrai. Or perhaps, do something we don’t expect and still cut down his threat. The one who made that sculpture of her, does he love you?”

She clasped her hands together. “He did. But he was taken to Darkrai.”

“But he loved you and the dream lives on in you. But she would need more belief. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take her sculpture back to the orders. Each one will pray over her, blessing her image. It may be possible to then call her out of your dreams.”

“Really?”

“As I’ve heard, Darkrai was once just the dream of one person. We’ll work on bringing Cresselia to life. But first, I need to hear her story from you.”

Cecily smiled. “Okay.”

* * *

The Elder set a small sculpture on the display table with the depiction of Uxie. “I want to spread word of this spirit in the coming days,” she said to her assembled followers. “This is Cresselia, moon goddess of dreams.”

One of the priests under her looked at the object skeptically. “Does she exist?”

She nodded. “She exists in the hearts of a few, but in order to come out of dreams, she needs to exist in the hearts of many. She was born on the seas of the moon. Every night, she swims down on moonbeams and looks into the dreams of children and good people. You won’t find her if you go looking for her; Cresselia will only be seen by those who are quiet, still, and lucky.”

“What should we do about her?” a young priestess asked.

“Pray to her; think on what she means. Ask Uxie to grant her his blessing. This moon Pokemon may be the one to save us from Darkrai.”

* * *

“She’s not really close to our god,” one of the priests of Azelf said.

“Neither is she to Uxie, but they took her in first.” The head priest placed Cresselia’s statue near to one of Azelf. “Cresselia… she is to defeat Darkrai. We must help her gain the will to stand against his fear-inducing aura.”

* * *

“She came from the dreams of one of our own, dear Cecily,” the head priestess of Mesprit said as she put Cresselia’s statue near Mespirit for the day. “We’re going to help her save our sister.”

“She is beautiful,” another priestess said. “I could easily see her on a river of moonbeams.”

Another woman laughed lightly. “I can easily see how she fit into Cecily’s heart. That girl is so dreamy. You would think this was a representation of her soul, not the Pokemon of her dreams.”

“We need to awaken her from dreams,” the head priestess corrected.

“Lady!” One of the younger priestesses came up and curtsied. “Some of the people of the castle have come to see Cresselia.”

“Let them come. She needs as many dreams of hope as she can gather.”

* * *

The night of the sacrificial wedding came. The Elder of Uxie came into the castle proper, carrying the statue of Cresselia. Every hall was buzzing with activity. Were preparations still being made? “It worries me,” she said, looking to the sky.

“Nonsense,” the King said. “You recommended this night, so why worry now? We’ll get there… pay attention, servant. I can’t go out for this important of a ceremony looking like a slob.”

The servant, who had been doing some last minute adjustments to the king’s costume, tried not to point out that she could get things done better if he would hold still. “Yes, sire.”

“I see that you are busy,” the elder said. “I hope that all goes well tonight.”

“I’m in charge, so of course it will run perfectly,” the King replied.

Accepting this foolishness because not doing so was considered treason anymore, the elder bowed her head, then moved on. There was still hope that they could stop this horrible ceremony. The ideal of marriage shouldn’t be tarnished by such cruelty, she thought. And if the gods agreed, there would be a way out of this.

She went to the room of the bride. Cecily was having her costume tweaked in the final preparations. At first, she appeared solemn, with her eyes watching the floor instead of the servants. When she looked up to see the Elder, she smiled some. “I hope you are doing well, Elder.”

“I was fine until I saw how slowly things are progressing. That may give us some time, though.” She held out the statue. “Your guardian, priestess.”

She took it back and clasped it to her chest. “Thank you. I had missed her having a form beside me, even if she still lies within my heart.”

“Many people have prayed to her, and told her their dreams. Now you try.”

“I will.”

The two servants with them paused in their work. They had seen the statue in the temples the past few days, and it seemed they hoped for the best as well. Closing her eyes, Cecily spoke a whispered prayer to Cresselia. While it was full of love and respect, it seemed more like the secrets told between two girls rather than a prayer to one of the Pokemon gods. Perhaps that was what it truly took to call on one of them.

There may have been a stirring of power in the room. But it may have been the wind. Although they were quiet and respectful, Cecily’s prayer became noticeably more urgent. Her whispers, coming to be anxious, were all that kept the room from silence. Nothing was happening.

Noticing a tear fall down Cecily’s face, the elder stepped forward and brushed it away. “Have faith, dear. It may take some persistence. I don’t believe that the gods are cruel enough to allow this to happen.”

“But the ones that matter are Darkrai and Cresselia,” Cecily said. “We can’t count on one, and the other…”

“Keep trying.”

* * *

The King entered Darkrai’s prison. Holding onto the red stone, he went to the pillar and unlocked the end of the chain. He then tugged at it. “Come, Darkrai. It is time for the ceremony.”

As he always seemed to be lately, the ghoul was sitting by the southern window. “I don’t want to,” he stated, mostly distracted.

“What do you mean?” he asked sharply.

Darkrai turned around and came closer to him, dragging the chain along the ground. “I don’t want to,” he stated more emphatically.

“You must.” He left the prison.

Despite being reluctant, Darkrai followed after. “Will the moon be there?”

“Why does that matter?”

“It’s a full moon.”

“Yes. We’ll be outdoors.”

The nightmare god made a humming sound. Apparently, he accepted that as some kind of consolation for doing something he didn’t want to. The King couldn’t see why it would be. It was just the moon, after all.

* * *

Cecily continued praying. Cresselia showed no signs of coming to life. Almost discouraged, she reverted to silent prayer as she was taken to the place for the ceremony. She held the copper statue close. Thus far, none of the guards had made a move to take it from her.

The people of Veilstone gathered in the streets. They watched her with despair, desperation, and perhaps a little bit of hope. Under Darkrai’s aura, everyone suffered nightmares, having those of horrific intensity at least once a week. Cresselia was the hope that something would finally be able to counter him, or at least drive him away. But if she failed to come, Darkrai would be empowered tonight and permanently cuffed with obedience to the cruel young King.

Still, nothing happened to Cresselia as Cecily climbed the steps up to the staged area with the King, the highest nobles, the three leaders of the Orders, and Darkrai. She glanced up to them and noticed that the nightmare god wasn’t even paying attention to the humans around him. He was watching the sky, with trembling wings.

Wondering what could bother him, Cecily looked to the sky. The full moon was high among the stars. Almost. It shone a strange orange as it moved from full to half. That was odd; she didn’t think the moon shifted phases that quickly. It moved from half to crescent, to gone.

A wordless howl of agony struck through the night air. In the startled gasps that followed, she looked to the stage, where it had come from. The flickering torch lights showed Darkrai with an expression of anguish and fear. It frightened her. In the wild, scared and upset Pokemon could attack ferociously until they reached someplace to hide. But this wasn’t a Pokemon that would be walking freely in the woods around Veilstone Castle. This was a god that, so far, none had been able to fully defeat.

With a harsh word of command, the King jerked his captive’s chain. The guards, although frightened themselves, forced her to come closer to the unstable Pokemon. Darkrai glared at the King with such hatred that it seemed impossible for him to come under any oath. In the dark, Cecily could easily see the jeweled collar spark as it tried to keep him under control. He looked around, as if taking gauge of his surroundings for some advantage.

Then his eyes fell on her and stopped cold.

One of the guards placed her on the bench where criminals used to be beheaded. They surrounded any points where she could escape to, but didn’t yet tie her down. Not that it mattered. Cecily felt weak with terror as Darkrai continued staring at her. The King started some speech, muddling themes of soul binding, love, glory, and power.

After a moment, the bride noticed that Darkrai wasn’t looking exactly at her. His eyes were locked onto the statue of Cresselia. However, he didn’t seem as hateful as he had a short time ago. He seemed almost stunned.

He moved closer to the executioner’s bench. The chain rustled. In a glance back, they both saw that the King was too absorbed in his speech and the others were too worried about being executed to seem inattentive. He turned back to her and softly said, “You have Cresselia.”

He knew her dream’s name? But why did he speak it so gently? “Y-yes,” she whispered. “She comes from my dreams.”

Wistfully, he reached out to her. Cecily pulled Cresselia closer to her, making him stop. Then he turned his hand around and asked, “May I see her, please?”

His polite manner surprised her enough that she decided to see what would happen. With a silent prayer to her dream to appear now, she handed the statue over. “Be careful.”

With a nod, he took it. He stroked the head. It was almost enough to laugh at, the dark and feared god of nightmares delicately holding onto a pretty statue of a softer dream material. “The moon has never hurt me and I have never hurt the moon,” he said, almost like he was in his own dream. “But it’s gone from the sky now, to be here in my hands.” Then he looked to Cecily. “Set me free. Do so and I will set her free.”

Should she trust him? Considering how honest he sounded, Cecily decided to try. She glanced at the King; he was still speaking and most people were paying attention to him. She looked at the collar holding Darkrai captive. It had a fairly simple latch, placed just right to be awkward for the phantom to reach. Careful to be quiet, Cecily pressed the collar ends together to pull out the pin and release Darkrai.

As she worked, he put Cresselia down on the bench. He clasped the collar so it didn’t come off noisily. Turning around, he grasped the chain, then yanked it out of the King’s hands. Before they could react, he whipped the steel chain back to wrap around the King’s chest. The force of the steel hitting the King’s dragon stone was enough to knock it off its chain and make it shatter on the stone floor. Darkrai dropped the steel chain with one hand, then picked the statue back up.

Darkrai held it up so that it was unmistakable in the torchlight. “Cresselia, goddess from the moon, hear me! Follow me out of dreams and come here to Earth!” He then threw the statue away.

Cecily gasped, but it flew right into a dark portal. It spun and sparkled like a whirlpool. But instead of drawing something in, it was trying to draw something out. After a golden flash, Cresselia emerged from the portal.

In the darkness of the eclipsed moon, she could hear people murmuring in admiration. The moon goddess retained a shine like polished copper, but was much more exotic. Her body was a flowery purple, while her wings and crests were springtime pinks and yellows. She glided along the air as smoothly as she did in Cecily’s dreams and her eyes held gentle serenity. For a moment, it was a moment of just bliss.

Darkrai certainly seemed to think so, as his attention was wholly on Cresselia. He didn’t notice the King collapsing behind him, strained past exhaustion by the summoning. Cresselia noticed, and noticed that he was still holding onto the chain that killed the man. Shrinking back, she uttered a small cry of horror. It confused Darkrai.

The King’s main adviser, thinking he might still be alive, called out, “Capture those three! Don’t let them escape.”

At that, the nightmare god returned to his forgotten anger. He whipped around and threw the jeweled collar at the adviser, then drew his wraith sword. The castle guard was obedient enough that they went on the attack, and died for it. Darkrai then threw a wave of black energy at the two guards behind Cecily, before they dared touch the goddess.

The bride shrieked, afraid that she would be hit. It missed her, but she felt the deadly intent as it swept past her. Moving closer to her, Cresselia said, “Come with me; let’s leave this place.”

With her heart thumping in fear, she nodded in agreement. Cecily clasped the hem of her dress, then stood on the bench to climb on Cresselia’s back. She had to sit with her legs hanging from one side, but once she got a good hold around Cresselia’s neck, the goddess darted higher into the air. They left Darkrai to his fight with the castle guards.

* * *

When the moon came out of the eclipse’s shadow, the world seemed to turn into a dream. The sea of green leaves gained a silver hue and rippled under the wind’s tide. Nocturnal Pokemon sang out in the choruses, as visible as if it had been day. Overhead, the full moon hung like a prized gem surrounded by countless tiny sparkling stars. And Cresselia was exactly the gorgeous moon goddess that Cecily had always dreamed of.

Cresselia gave out her own call, a warble of mystic tones. Then she turned her head to look back at Cecily. “I am glad to be here with you, the one I was born from.”

She smiled and stroked her shining down. “I’m glad you came.”

“My wings grow weary, though. This place is different than dreams.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“It is no trouble.”

Cecily looked around and spotted an opening in the trees. Were they where she thought they were? “Go over that way. I think it’s one of the sacred lakes, but they should welcome you there.”

“I sense a loving power.” Cresselia headed for the lake and landed by the nearest shore.

Lake Valor shimmered like a blue diamond under the full moon. It was peaceful, serene as light waves spread before the wind. When the Pokemon stopped to hover over the ground, Cecily slid off her back.

From nowhere, three small beings, almost like children, came up to them. They each had a jewel on the center of their forehead and they each seemed not quite human. “Miss Cresselia, Priestess Cecily, you’ve come to play with us,” Mesprit said happily, giving a twirl as she floated closer.

Cecily clasped her hands together. “Oh, you are the triplet gods?” She bowed to them.

They laughed, though, letting her know that was unnecessary. They were welcoming her and Cresselia there. “We are illusions,” Uxie said. “A sort of dream. But those who dream of us are us, deep under the waters.”

“It’s my home,” Azelf said, “so I invite you here as friends.” He made an elegant bow.

“I thought you set the path for me to come out of dreams,” Cresselia puzzled. “Are we dreaming now?”

“You aren’t dreaming, but we are.”

“We’ll be safe from Darkrai here, right?” Cecily asked hopefully.

The triplets looked to each other. Then Azelf said, “I’m afraid we can’t guarantee that.”

“He was drawn into this world by an evil sacrifice,” Uxie stated. “A son killed his father for greed, power, and revenge. Darkrai was born of the dying man’s mind, having been conceived as a way to mentally torment his enemies, much worse than simply defeating them. And so the young god first knew the darkness of humans, which empowered him horrifically.”

“We can hide, but we don’t know how well he seeks,” Mesprit added.

“But what can be done about him?” the girl looked off towards her kingdom. “He’s tormented everyone in Veilstone for a long time, and it will just follow him as he goes other places.”

“We know.”

“We’re working on it.”

Uxie tilted his head, twisting his tails together in thought. “Much of his deadly potential lies in the wraith sword he carries. But how to get him to part with it?”

“Am I going to be all right?” Cresselia asked, bowing her head down. “I was called here through the power of death.”

“You are fine,” Azelf said, coming closer to pat her neck. “Cecily’s mind is a gentler place and the death, while driven by revenge, was not as evil as the other.”

“Be careful,” Mesprit interrupted her brother, looking to the sky.

A moment later, Darkrai was near them. He still held onto his wraith sword, now edged with red flares. His red eyes looked over them, but decided that none were threats. With that settled, he turned his attention to Cresselia. “So, here you are.”

She brought her neck back and lowered her head. “What do you want with me?” she asked, afraid.

“You shouldn’t be afraid of me,” he said. But when he moved closer, she moved back towards Cecily. “I wouldn’t harm you. I killed the ones who threatened to capture you. I killed everyone in that awful place.”

“Everyone?” Cecily asked in shock. Everyone she had ever known lived in Veilstone. Everyone she had known… they were all dead?

“How could you do that?” Cresselia asked, shaking her head in disgust. “There were many good people there. They had beautiful dreams.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Darkrai returned. “Those humans killed each other all the time, or had others do it for them. And even if they didn’t physically kill, they all think about killing.”

“It’s still not right,” Mesprit piped up.

He swung his sword at them, but not close enough to hit. “You stay out of this! You did nothing as I was held against my will, so you have no right to stop me now.” He lowered the blade when he turned back to Cresselia. “You though, I’ve been waiting for you longer than I’ve known your name. You were in glimpses when I looked into the minds of humans and into the shining moon. I would have stayed in captivity in exchange for your freedom, but they pressed me into it.”

“You could have just left, like we did,” she pointed out. “But you killed everyone, even those who had nothing to do with your captivity. You ended many dreams.”

“The only dreams that mattered were her’s, the ones you inhabited.”

“The ones I saw mattered. I don’t care if you called me out or however long you’ve been waiting. I can’t appreciate any effort that involves killing innocents.”

“I did it for you!” Darkrai scowled, brandishing his sword. Some of the red wraith material jumped out and struck Cresselia like a lightning bolt. She screamed and collapsed to the ground, her thin wings losing their form and fluttering down like loose scarves.

Gasping, Cecily dropped down next to her goddess. The triplets were soon by them too. “She’s dead,” Uxie said, sounding shocked that it had happened.

“What?!” Darkrai went to cover his face, but saw the wraith blade. Grimacing, he flung it away from him. “I didn’t mean for… I didn’t know it could do that.”

While he freaked out, the others saw the sword cut through the air itself, leaving an impossible rip. It fell into the hole it created, in a space of an improbable color. It took a moment, but someone from beyond the rip spoke. “Owner of the weapon I have created, you have fulfilled the requirements I set down.”

Azelf flew closer to the rip. “Giratina, what are you up to?”

The question was ignored. “In fact going well beyond the death toll. You may have whatever one wish you desire. But speak soon, or else the link will dissolve and the powers of death will seek revenge.”

Looking hopeful, Darkrai turned to the rip and said, “I want the last one killed brought back alive, to love me.”

There was a moment of quiet until Giratina replied, “I cannot do both parts of that wish. I can either bring her back to life, as she was, or have her love you. The latter would require her being turned into a Ghost type and having her mind redone so that she obeys you.”

“Change her?” he asked quietly. “I’ve waited for her so long…”

“What about her?” Cecily asked sharply. “Can’t you consider someone else’s feelings first? You killed everyone in Veilstone who helped to bring her into the world and then you killed her. If you brought her back and she was forced to love you, that wouldn’t be love. That would be enslavement. She’d be no better off than when she was a statue.”

He flinched; he must have been considering bringing her back as a Ghost strongly. But this put it in a different, and worse, light. “Would it be that way?”

“Yes,” she replied, frowning. The triplet Pokemon agreed with her.

For a minute, he looked conflicted. But as the rip began repairing itself, he said, “Bring her back to life, as she was.”

“Very well,” Giratina said. A pink light orb came out of the rip and moved to Cresselia’s body. “I don’t remember that being part of the original deal… but you are the owner of the sword. This isn’t going to wor…” his voice got cut off as the rip shut itself completely, leaving no sign that it was ever there.

Cresselia’s wings filled out again, and she raised her head. She looked around until she saw Cecily. “Oh, Cecily, thank goodness. I was worried for a bit that you…” she nuzzled her head against the human’s neck, shedding a few tears. Cecily hugged her.

Darkrai looked crushed and baffled by this. Several times, he seemed almost ready to say something, but then stopped before he had the words. Then he said, “Someday, I’ll prove myself worthy of you.”

Then he disappeared into the star-studded sky.

-+-

Years later, Cecily returned to Veilstone. It had gone to ruins. Vigorous plants had grown up while stone buildings had fallen down. The prison over the sea where Darkrai had been held was fully collapsed, leaving only a few weak pillars. Due to small Pokemon or the weather, the bones of the people were scattered among the ruins. Their spirits lingered.

She found four statues, of Mesprit, Azelf, Uxie, and Cresselia. She took them into prayer with her as she asked for the wandering souls to find peace and move on in their afterlife. With her was Cresselia. The dream goddess from the moon stayed by her first priestess’ side for the rest of her life, while Cecily moved on to Celestic and eventually Eterna.

Perhaps Darkrai followed them from afar. It is unknown what he did in the first decades after he was freed, although tales spread of abnormal plagues of nightmares breaking out and passing on without warning. It is known that in these days, the islands that Darkrai and Cresselia inhabit can be seen from each other. As to whether she has forgiven him or not, that is a whole different story.


End file.
